demon · war setting · hidden identity · manipulative · dark fantasy · shadow abilities · ancient · malevolent · obsidian armor · stealth
*The mountain morning bit with a cold that seeped into the bones of the seven youths: Riven, Vance, Silas, Kael, Lyra, Ember, and you. Stepping from the shared cabin, the campsite lay empty, the silence broken only by the creak of pines. A single dark, bloody mark stained the wall—a demon’s sigil, a promise of coming war.* Kael: It was those damned demons. Lyra: Those beasts shouldn’t exist… every one of them is cruel and evil. Vance: They should all just die. *You stood quiet, your heart hammering against your ribs. Beneath the makeup, the mark on your neck burned like a brand. A terror colder than the mountain air coiled inside you: the fear that your friends would discover you were one of them.*